


Adventures in Fash Bashing

by portbleck



Category: Jreg, The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Boot Worship, Fist Fights, Foot Jobs, Hate Sex, I'm tired, Oral Sex, Other, Qi/Qim pronouns, Slurs, kind of??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:13:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22474675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/portbleck/pseuds/portbleck
Summary: Sorry Jregory, I crave degeneracy.
Relationships: Ancom/Homonationalism
Comments: 16
Kudos: 122





	Adventures in Fash Bashing

Ancom was getting really sick of being the moderator of fights within the extremist household, qi thought as qi stormed on to the immaculately kept lawns of Ancap’s palatial estate. Qi was exhausted living amidst the oppressive forces of Statism and Capitalism, having qir vibes constantly dampened by the amount of intolerance around qim; and yet, qi was expected to help everyone else get along. There was so much emotional labour forced on qim just by virtue of living with a bunch of stunted man-children who never learnt process their feelings in a healthy way, massively hindering their co-operation for the sake of shared ideological goals.

Gods, qi needed to bash some fash to take qir mind off this bullshit.

Ancom rubbed qir eyes with a sigh, before taking a joint out of qir cigarette case. Qi was about to light it when qi noticed movement on the edge of qir foggy vision, hearing some distant noise that sounded vaguely like sirens. Ancom’s eyes trailed up along the high walls that surrounded the compound, to pair of bare feet perched on the concrete, tracking along up the figure’s lithe body to their awestruck face. The naked form leaped off the wall as soon as their eyes met. Qi tilted their head in confusion and glanced down, seeing another figure that looked kinda like Nazi scrabbling at the wall and muttering aggressively.

“Help me up, you degenerates!” they hissed, “I’ll tell them about you all stalking them! Think the commie will take being spied on by a foreign agent well?”

The sirens sounded again, but the sound was even further away and faded out after a short while. 

“Uhhhh, are you ok? Why did you jump the wall?” Qi said after hearing the figure give a dejected sigh. They may have looked like a larping alt-righter, but if they were in some kind of trouble that made them come here, Ancom would try and help them.

The figure jumped and straightened up at the sound of the voice, their arms ramrod at their sides. They turned around slowly, chest puffed out before snorting with disgust and rolling their eyes upon seeing who was talking to them, relaxing their tense posture into one of natural distain, their arms folded with one hip cocked.

“Are you just going to coddle someone invading your home? Welcome me right in, no terrorism screenings or anything?”

Ancom furrowed qir brows, fuming that qir offer of help had been wasted on a racist qi’d never seen before.

“Get out of here with that racist shit!” Qi screeched, fists balling in annoyance, “Who the fuck are you?!” 

“It’s not being racist, it’s justified xenophobia. You expect all those savages not to honour kill a tranny like you? Don’t make me laugh…” they rambled, arguing over Ancom with a patronising look. 

As Ancom took in a breath, response on qir lips, Homonationalism introduced himself.

Now it was Ancom’s turn to be disgusted, narrowing qir eyes as qir jaw ticked with rage. Qi burned with a special kind of hatred for racist queers. 

“I came out here to get away from all the statists and the racists, and now there’s another Nazi in my face...”

“God,” Homofash sighed, “I’d want Nazi in my face, maybe those firm hands on my throat too.” He moaned, seeming not to be paying much attention to Ancom as he verbalised his fantasies.

“… except you aren’t on Team Extreme, I’m not in a truce with you.”

Homofash’s mouth opened with another retort before pausing with a confused look on his face. He was about to ask what that mattered when Ancom took a swing at him, a left hook cracking across his jaw.

He recoiled, standing stunned, slightly crumpled, as he moved a hand to cup his face. 

“You wanna get the fuck out of here or do you do you wanna feel more anti-fascist aktion?”

Eyes fluttering, Homofash swallowed, then gave Ancom a nervously flirtatious look.

“Surprised a hippy can pack a punch like that, got anything stronger?”

He tilted his chin up challengingly and Ancom grinned underneath qir bandanna.

Swinging at Homofash’s temple, Ancom caught his sharp cheekbone instead as he moved away from the arc of the punch.

He started returning some of Ancom’s punches but was overwhelmed by the anarchist’s unstructured fighting style. The pair became a tangle of fists and elbows, with Homofash grabbing at Ancom’s face and hair, ripping off qir bandanna and jerking qir head around violently. Qi hissed at the sharp pain, prying Homofash’s hands off qim and backhanding him. Homofash gave a satisfied groan, getting a little lost in a masochistic headspace.

Still disorientated from the whiplash, Ancom saw qir chance and launched a fist into Homofash’s gut, yanking him to the ground and winding him as his back collided with the grass.

Qi really needed this, even if the fascist was getting off on it.

Qi got in a couple of kicks to Homofash’s stomach before he got a breath in and caught qir leg, tugging qim down.

Ancom clattered down on top of him, the two of them grunting. As qi went to lift qir chest off of Homofash’s face, qi felt a hand on qir waist as he bit qim hard over qir t-shirt. Ancom gasped in pain, grasping Homofash’s jaw as qi recoiled from the bite. Qi sat back on his lap, qir thighs bracketed around his torso, pinning one arm to his side. 

“Who bites people in a fist fight??” Qi squawked indignantly, digging the nail of qir thumb into the skin of Homofash’s chin, the palm of qir hand resting on his throat. 

“All this foreplay made me hungry.” Homofash breathed through his teeth, a smile playing about his lips.

“Fascist freak…” Qi huffed in a low tone. “Not that I’m kink-shaming, I’m just not into bigots.”

Homofash laughed breathily, his fingers digging into Ancom’s bony hip.

“And I’m not into scrawny, unwashed degenerates.”

They sat there staring at each other with shrewd glares, puffing clouds of warm air into the chill breeze of the night.

“You’re hard.”

“I know.”

“Want me to do anything about that?”

Homofash’s mouth curled into a smug grin at Ancom’s waveringly confident question.

“Oh Daddy, I thought you’d never ask~”

“Don’t fucking misgender me!” Ancom snapped, letting go of the throat of the man below qim. “If you’re gonna make fun of me I’ll just go.”

Qi leaned back on qir haunches, twisting qir body to leave, but Homofash seemed to have a different idea. He bolted up and shoved Ancom flat on qir back.

“You don’t just get to leave me like this after giving me a beating!” Homofash pleaded, before his voice melted back to its smooth, confident tone. “I’ll make it worth your while~”

Ancom stifled a giggle at the sudden burst of neediness from the other ideology.

“Ok, just don’t call me Daddy. What did you have in mind?”

Homofash flashed Ancom a smile before trailing down to qir belt and unbuckling it, unzipping qir jeans as qi propped qimself up to look down at the fascist.

“May I suck your cock, Ancom?” He asked, looking up wide eyes full of faux-earnest, nuzzling his cheek into qir thigh.

Ancom’s breath hitched and qi nodded. Homofash responded by taking out a condom from his breast pocket and shrugging his greatcoat off of his shoulders, before tugging the anarchist’s jeans and underwear down.

Qi shivered from the cold and Homofash’s focus on qir junk. Having sex when qi was this sober was always kinda awkward and intense, though Homofash was doing a pretty good job of distracting qim with his pornographic mannerisms.

He caressed qir cock, stroking it to full hardness, hooded eyes skating over Ancom’s flat stomach as it hitched with qir nervous breaths. Tearing the condom out of its package, Homofash proceeded to suck it between his lips and roll it down qir dick.

“F-fuck,” qi sighed, gripping qir hands in the grass. 

The warmth of Homofash’s mouth had reached the base of qir cock, his tongue flicking out to drag up, slowly, along the underside of qir shaft. He swirled his tongue around the head, before letting it go with a pop. Seeing the dishevelled state of Ancom, he returned to work, doing wicked things with his tongue that had qim thrusting up into his face.

Homofash was craving the roughness he knew the anarchist was capable of, giving out a muffled moan when qi pushed qir cock down his throat. Taking this as encouragement, Ancom threaded qir hand through Homofash’s hair, knocking off his dumb hat and fucking his face tentatively. His breath came harshly out of his nose, eyes tearing as he fought his gag reflex. 

“You doing alright?”

Homofash threw up an OK sign.

His hips were rocking without really realising it, having his throat overwhelmed and his breathing strained was really making him ache for Ancom’s touch. Shifting qir leg slightly, qi could feel the gentle thrusts against qir shin. When qi started to piston qir hips faster, Homofash locked qir foot between his thighs and thrust his erection on qir ankle, groaning into qir crotch as he ground into the boot desperately.

Ancom threw qir head back, riding the pleasure of the soft mouth, drinking in the gulps and gags from Homofash.

“Faster, faster, please!”

Qir hand was tightly fisted in Homofash’s hair but wasn’t guiding his head as much. He pulled up to suck at the head of Ancom’s cock, bringing another hand to jerk qim off, his hips matched the rapid pace of his hand as they drove into qir boot. The jump in speed and intensity was sudden and qi threw a hand up, pressing qir palm to qir face as qi gasped in pleasure. Sultry eyes glared up at qim, pushing qim closer and closer to the edge. 

As qi reached qir crest, Homofash’s mouth slid off his cock and clamped his teeth on the soft skin of qir inner thigh. He continued to wring Ancom’s orgasm out of qim.

“AGhh- Christ!” Qi cried out, the mix of pain and ecstasy making qim lightheaded, colours dancing behind qir closed eyes.

Ancom felt a shiver run through the fascist while he held qir leg still to grind on and gnawed at qir thigh.

“Too much right now,” Qi said, pushing Homofash’s head away, “Did you-“

“Yeah, these chinos are ruined.” He groaned, delicately wiping salvia from the corners of his mouth.

Ancom laughed a little, trailing off and both of them stewing in their own sweat and trying to catch their breath, Homofash’s puffing against Ancom’s belly.

“I’m getting kinda cold, think I’m gonna go inside. Can you get off me?”

Homofash rolled into a sitting positioning and watched as Ancom took off qir condom and tugged up qir jeans.

“By the way,” he intoned cautiously as qi got dressed, “don’t mention this to the Nazi if it comes up. I don’t want him getting the wrong impression about my standards.”

“Sure thing, just let me know if you wanna form a horizontal power structure again. Maybe we can mix in some Mandy?” Qi responded, raising qir eyebrows suggestively.

“Uh, no. Like I said, you’re not my type.”

“Your type seems to be anyone with boots you can worship, or at least grind into.”

Homofash looked at the ground, shrugged with a rueful smile.

“Perhaps. I will let you know if I’m ever in need of another pair of boots to knock.”

* * *

“Ancom! There’s a package for you! Come get it before I charge you a handling fee!”

Qi stumbled downstairs at the sound of Ancap’s crooning voice. Gods, it was early. How did anyone wake up before 1pm?

Grabbing a knife and a bag of breakfast Doritos, qi sat at the counter where a parcel addressed to qim was set down. Ancap was zipping around the kitchen, entirely in a world of his own, babbling over a headset to investors.

Slicing into the plastic wrapping, qi opened the package further, uncovering a shoebox. To qir dismay, a pair of shiny new Doc Martens with white laces sat inside, next to a printed note.

_Your old ones were in an awful state, try not get these ones too scuffed, I like them pristine.  
HN xxxxx _

**Author's Note:**

> can you tell i'm rusty at writing smut and have never learnt how to conclude a fic?
> 
> also i chose qir for the possessive pronoun because it would be pronounced "queer" which is kinda sick


End file.
